Drops of Jupiter
by Toplesslemon
Summary: There's a lot of fics that have Kate returning. This fic is about what happens AFTER she returns...[TATE][Details inside]


**Disclaimer:** Once upon a time there was a TV show known as NCIS. And I didn't own it. Nor did anyone I know. The End. This same person also didn't own the song Drops of Jupiter by Train or Absolutely (Story of a Girl) by Nine Days either. And as much as they hope, they ain't never going to get the rights to The X-Files.

**Dedicated:** Ellen, for asking me to post this, and because Ellen rules. Got that?!

**AN:** Man, the lack of sleep is getting to me. Did I just threaten you?! Okay; things you need to know; Tate (as always), well, Tate-ish.

There's quite a few fics that have Kate "returning", but this isn't one of them (although, another fic I wrote - Not Impossible, Just Highly Improbable is, you could probably see this as an extra bit to that, I suppose). This is set some time after Kate's returned and deals with the implications of her returning. Kinda.

It's in Tony's POV, so be warned.

--

There's something different about her now, now that she's returned. It's something that I can't quite put my finger on. I spend hours staring at her trying to figure out what has changed.

Her hair is longer now; it falls way past her shoulders. A few days after she returned I heard her say to Abby that she was thinking of getting it cut, but Abby convinced her not to. Her fringe, or what used to be her fringe (can you call it a fringe if it's not longer fringe-like?), can now be tucked behind her ears. She doesn't have to stop whatever she's doing every five minutes to move hair out of her eyes. I don't think she ever realised that she was doing it, but I did.

She's slightly skinnier, not that much, just enough to make her look slightly different. Her clothes are slightly different too; she wears mostly brown and beige colours now. The style is exactly the same as it's always been; just the colours are different. It's like they're still the same, only duller. I can't remember the last time I saw her wear anything green.

She doesn't wear scarves that much anymore; only on very cold days. I have never met someone with so many of the damn things. Sometimes I wonder what ever happened to them. Where are they now? Does she even still have them? Are they sitting at back of a wardrobe or in an attic somewhere? Did anyone keep them for her?

She still gets her headaches, and she still has the biggest bottle of aspirin I've even seen. She's had three headaches this week already. I can't remember if that's more or less than it was before. It's sometimes hard to remember the before. She never complains about them, but than again, she never did.

She refuses to gang up on McGee with me. She doesn't even tease him anymore. Maybe she thinks that it's Ziva's job now. When she heard that me and Ziva had glued McGee's head to his desk she just sighed. But it wasn't a "you're such an idiot" sigh, or even a "you infuriate me" sigh (that I used to hear so much), it was a slightly depressing sigh, a sad sigh.

She wasn't this quiet before. She can't have been. There's no banter anymore, she won't bite. Or elbow me, or even roll her eyes. Sometimes I think of things to say to her that I KNOW will get her pissed off, and I go to say it, but then I look at her and I can't. She looks so small and tired. Like she doesn't have the energy to fight me. So I don't. I don't say things just to annoy her. I don't throw paperclips, paper planes, staples or food at her. I don't chat up every female around us (well, I try not to). I just don't.

She still has one of the most beautiful smiles I have ever seen. The day after she returned Abby gave Tony (the dog, not me) back to her and her smile lit up the room. Yet, somehow, when she smiles she looks sad. She reminds me of that song about the girl who cried a river and drowned the whole word. _"And while she looks so sad in photographs, I absolutely love her, when she smiles..."_

She doesn't say what happened to her, where she went or why she had to go. She doesn't say why she's back either, only that "it was time". There are a lot of rumours; each more crazy than the last. I've heard stories about terrorists, witness protection, the FBI, the CIA, and even aliens and acts of God.

I'm not the only one watching her, though. I think everyone seems to be keeping an eye on Kate. I constantly catch Gibbs watching her over his coffee cup (and he catches me, though we say nothing about it), and he doesn't yell at her at all. Ducky finds more and more reasons to visit and he calls her Caitlin a lot more than I remember him doing. McGee watches her too (though he makes it less obvious), and yesterday I heard him yelling at a bunch of agents for talking about Kate behind her back. Abby hasn't left her side, at all. Any work that she can do at Kate's desk she does, and Kate has a second desk in Abby's lab, where she spends a lot of time. Gibbs doesn't seem to mind. Sometimes the only time I hear her talking is when she's talking to Abby.

It may sound weird, but I have the strangest urge to hug her when I see her now. It never used to be like this; I used to have the urge to do things that would annoy her (like removing the staples from her stapler and throwing them at her, or unplugging her mouse), or to say things that to make her angry (she's hot when she's angry), or to do other things, but never to just hug her.

Like now, for instance. We're waiting for the elevator, and Kate's standing next to me, reading a file, chewing the end of her pen. Has she always chewed the ends of her pens? Has she always been that short?

'Kate,' I say suddenly

'Mmm?' She says, looking up at me briefly, before returning her eyes to the file. The only thing I can think of is to hug her, so I do. I wrap my arms around her and bring her as close as possible. I feel her tense slightly. 'Tony?'

'Shh...' I instruct, and for a few glorious seconds I just listen to her breathe. It's still hard to believe she's here, in my arms, breathing, living.

'What are you doing?' She asks, her voice muffled in my clothes. Not, "what the hell are you doing?", no elbowing, punching or scratching like I could have expected if I tried this before. She's not trying to escape at all. I'm listening to you breath, that's what I'm doing, Katie.

'Hugging you.' I say instead

'Why?' Why not?

'You looked like you needed one.' I wince, as I say it; it's one the most clichéd lines I've ever said, but suddenly she's crying. Which feels so weird; Kate Todd doesn't cry in front of me, she's too strong for that! Well, at least she used to be...

I take the file from her, and let it drop to the floor. She buries her head in my shoulder. The elevator arrives. Thankfully, it's empty, so I gently pull inside, and press a random number. Just as the doors close I see McGee pick up the file. As soon as the doors close I stop the elevator and I let her cry, and cry and cry.

After a couple of minutes the crying slows, and then stops. She seems to collect herself and she steps back, out of my arms and to the other side of the elevator. She wipes her eyes and I restart the elevator.

'Sorry' she says with a sniff, and looks at her feet

'For what?' I ask, and she doesn't have an answer. I didn't think she would.

The elevator doors open and I'm thankful to see that we can get to my car from here. I start to exit the elevator, but stop in front of the doors when I realise Kate isn't following.

'Come on,' I say, holding out my hand

'Where?' She asks wearily. Away from here. Somewhere where you'd kick me in the balls for even suggesting to hold hands.

'Home,' I say with a sigh, and she takes my hand.

I call Abby as we're leaving headquarters. I let her deal with Gibbs, if any of us can it's Abby.

We drive straight to her place and there's no complaints about me knowing where she lives, and she doesn't make any remarks about me being sexist and it doesn't feel like her.

It starts raining as we park, so we hurry inside. Tony meets us at the door and Kate pats her absentmindedly. Tony ignores me. Her new place is nothing like her old one. I was only there once. I can't even remember why I was there. Her old place was full of pictures of friends and art and was painted deep earthly colours. Her new place has salmon pink walls. I don't know why that bothers me that much. She sits on the couch and I sit next to her. She looks at me if she's expecting me to say something. I don't know what to say. So, instead, I pick up the TV remote from the coffee table in front of us, turn the TV on, and hand the remote to her. She flicks through the channels. We watch part of a news bulletin, a few infomercials, and TV evangelist confirms my suspicions that I'm going to hell, before she settles on a repeat of The X-Files. Fox is having a marathon. If I were Fox I'd have lots of X-Files marathons.

After three episodes she turns the TV off and turns to me.

'Did you want something?' She asks

'Yes, actually,' I say 'I've always wanted to watch The X-Files with you.' She continues to look at me. 'I figure that if you watch enough you'll eventually dye your hair red and spend all your time with me, travelling across the country solving the unsolvable. In rented Fords.' She looks at her fingers and I swear that she almost smiles.

'Okay, then.' She says and turns the TV back on.

After another seven episodes the marathon finishes and I mute the TV. It's grown quite dark and the only light is coming from the TV. I turn to her.

'Kate,' I say, then pause. She looks at me expectantly. I have to tread carefully. 'Are you okay?' She gives me a look that I can't read.

'Why wouldn't I be? I'm back, aren't I?' She says slightly bitterly. I sigh and run my fingers over her forehead. Alive, I remind myself. No bullet, no death, alive. In front of me, breathing. I'm not good at these emotional parts. What do I say? "Kate, I want you to go back to the way you were before you left because you're starting to worry me and I really miss you"?

'Kate, I just want you to talk to me. Tell me about it.'

'About what?' She asks

'Everything.' I reply 'Well, everything you want to talk about.'

So she does, and we talk long into the night. She tells me how her mandatory sessions with a shrink are just making her more depressed, that sometimes she only wants to talk to Abby, that isn't ready to talk about the how, what, when, or why, but one day she will be, that sometimes she doesn't feel like herself, and she hates the salmon pink walls.

'It wasn't my choice, you know.' She says later, while we're watching an old movie.

'I didn't think it was.' I say, and it's true.

'And when I got back you had replaced me, and rightly so, it wasn't like I expected you not to, but,' she pauses 'it was like you had moved on, and didn't need me anymore.'

'Kate,' I say, and wrap my arm around her shoulders 'we will always need you. McGee's too ugly to be Scully.' Kate laughs and I can feel her laugh. She leans into my shoulder.

'We hadn't moved on, Kate, we couldn't.' I say a few seconds later, and she seems to except that.

'Good,' she says with a yawn, and I see her close her eyes.

'I should go.' I say, after looking at my watch.

'Mmm...' Kate says into my shoulders, but doesn't move.

'Or not.' I say, as I suddenly realise how tired I am and we fall asleep sitting on her couch.

When we wake, we're slightly hungry and stiff, it's later than normal and we're going to be late if we don't hurry. It becomes slightly crazed as we hurry to get ready (I'm glad that I have clothes in my car to change into), and find my keys (they had fallen in the crack between the back of the couch and the cushion. I also found an M&M and a hair tie back there). It isn't until we're in my car, slightly wet (it has been pouring with rain all night and it's still spitting), that I realise...

She's wearing a green top.

--

**AN:** So, there's the button. Oh, and it's called Drops of Jupiter because that's what I was listening to when I wrote it.


End file.
